“Today begins your first foray into Ayumastra. I bid you welcome to the Art of Air in its humble resplendence,” announced Professor Irina upon the theatron of House ARTAIA, the same theatron where she unraveled the knot. There were railings on the sides this time that reached tall and mighty.
Elwin was filled with both giddiness and concern. A corner of his heart feared that he’d make a fool of himself in front of the crowd, which included Lucian, but another part of his heart bubbled in anticipation at what he could do with his Quan, if he recited the spellsongs his father once sung. Surely everyone would be convinced that he wasn’t all just smoke and mirrors.
“The essence of Ayumastra – which governs the strands of air, or any matter belonging to free-flowing gas – is song. Would you guess as to why?”
Isaac cautiously raised his hand.
“Mr. Isaac.”
“Um... is it because air is influenced by sound, and sound is produced by song?”
“Precisely.” Professor Irina snapped her fingers, letting a small whiff of breeze carry the leaves.
“While it is possible to direct the air with your regular actions, just as you saw me do,” she elucidated, rubbing her fingers together, “air is especially attuned to sound. After all, what is sound but the vibration of air molecules that reach our ears?”
Wow, Elwin thought. So it meant –
“The great discovery of FOUNDER ARTAIA was that what we call ‘sound’ and the movement of air is in fact one and the same. With movement of air, you achieve sound – just as an explosion that displaces a lot of air produces a loud bang,” she said, startling a couple of sleepy Artens at the back with a fireball that went off with a thundering crack. It was far bigger than what Katherine had made a month ago.
So Professor Irina is versed in Tahamastra too? Even though her Maht is Air? Wondered Elwin, delighted.
“Now I have your attention again. Likewise,” she continued, “FOUNDER ARTAIA discovered that it is possible to move and control the air with sound. However, those sounds could not be any regular bang or crack or peal as it occurred in nature. In order for us to control air the way we wanted, we had to produce sounds laden with meaning behind them – through the language of song.”
Knowing murmurs swept the young audience. Isaac and Elwin leaned in, their ears craned for the professor’s next words.
“FOUNDER ARTAIA was the first to recognize the existence of air as the fourth and final of the Great Elements, and gave it the proper name of ‘Ayu.’ Before her, the peoples of the world did not have a proper label for it, because it could not be seen nor touched like the other Elements. They called water that had been turned to mist ‘vapor,’ or the sooty product of fire as ‘smoke,’ but did not have a unified concept of ‘air’ which existed beyond those transient substances.”
“Combining this revelation with her experiences across the world, and aided by her disciples, FOUNDER ARTAIA created the sacred language of ARTAYANA – a language whose words when sung could manipulate Ayu like no other.”
So this is what his father would have taught him, Elwin thought.
“And with this language, FOUNDER ARTAIA composed the Song of the Heavens, weaving into its verses the stories of humankind – every war, every tragedy and triumph, every hope and caution, including that of her humble origin and the stories of her disciples – enfolding within its one-million and eighty-eight thousand lines the totality of everything and anything which could be performed with Ayu, from the scale of the invisible to the scale of the planet, from feats of life to feats of utter destruction.”
Elwin glanced at his kismets and the Fradihta, breathlessly agape.
“Every Song that is part of the Art of Air – that which we call ‘Ayumastra’ – descend from the Song of the Heavens. They are but derivations of that great ancestral Form, its verses mixed, summarized, and adapted to many tongues towards a particular purpose and utility. While accessible to many, the verses of such derivatives have been abridged and diluted from the original, so it does not compare to the magnitude of effects the Song of the Heavens creates.”
“Do we – do we get to learn the Song of the Heavens?” stuttered Elwin, carried by enthusiasm that he forgot to raise his hand.
“Should you have enough practice. It is open to you come your third and fourth year – when you are a Tunir or a Senatir. But to reach that level,” she said, “you must master the foundations first.”
“The easiest and most basic Form in Ayumastra – the Song of the Wisps, is what you shall learn your first year, and what you shall begin with today. Now, rise!” she said, the theatron above the trunk rustling with the ruffle of fabric.
“Hold out your Quans, and proclaim, MAIOR FORTIOR!”
“MAIOR FORTIOR!” the Fradihta yelled in unison, as some one-hundred-and-sixty Quans blazed to life with a firelight of rays, their call to arms breaking upon the branches like waves upon shore to scatter the birds. Elwin had to shield his eye until the lights gentled again.
“Spread so that you have at least a yard of space around you!”
Elwin hurriedly found space, with Isaac behind him, and Katherine and Mirai to his side.
“You will first be learning how to move the air in a specified direction – up, down, left, and right. First, try it with your motions alone.”
Elwin gathered what he thought of his power and then swung his Quan-laden arm downwards.
What came down was a miniscule breeze. No, this can’t be it, he thought, gathering force again to strike the air down.
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Still, only the slightest of puffs, he frowned, when he felt a gust of wind land behind him.
It was Isaac. When he brought his arm down, a far larger mass of air brought itself forth. The differences in Maht was obvious.
Professor Irina motioned them to halt.
“Now then, let us try the basic words. We call them Sona. A chain of sona weaved into a line or verse is called a Sonir, or ‘spellsong’ in the everyday tongue. In the Song of the Wisps, the sona for the direction of up is URA. Try it.”
Alright, Quan, let’s do this, thought Elwin, as he shouted “URA!”
But nothing but a wisp. Well, it was called the Song of the Wisps after all, but surely there had to be more.
The theatron echoed with a chorus of Ura! Ura! Ura! but likewise to little effect.
“When you pronounce the word, you must impress its meaning into your consciousness, and let your voice carry that vision down to the syllable of sound. Pronounce the word as distinctly as you can. Do it again.”
With that, Elwin rolled his tongue this way and that to stretch it, and envisioning the air in front of him rising loftily in a gust, hollered “URA!”
A gust of wind rode up in front of his feet and shot to the sky, ruffling his hair.
IT WORKED! He exclaimed to his Quan, which buzzed once with delight. He declared the chant once more to success.
The theatron was soon aloft with leaves that had been blown to the sky.
“Now then, the command for down is UTUN. You may try it.”
Elwin roared “UTUN!” imagining his father against the Marlin King, and this time, the effect was immediate. What was but a breeze that descended when Elwin had only used his arm was now a good gust in its own right, enough to throw off the dust in the crevices of mosaiced stone at his feet.
But on his short ponytail he felt a blow of wind more powerful than his. Isaac sheepishly scratched his head.
“Next is left, or ZAHN.”
“ZAHN!”
The air breezed to his left.
“Next is right, or RIS!”
“RIS!”
The air shot to his right.
He was doing it. He was in control of Ayu properly just as his father once did!
“Now then, proclaim URA, UTUN, ZAHN, and RIS in succession!”
“URA! – UTUN! – ZAHN! – RIS!” commanded the Fradihta, the mass of air upon the theatron rushing up, down, left, and right, tousling their hair and their robes.
“URA! – UTUN! – ZAHN! – RIS!” Elwin repeated, finding himself filling with a sensation of the utmost glee. The chants worked just as Professor Irina had said. He glanced at Mirai and Katherine, who didn’t seem to produce as strong a gust as he did. He might be a natural at this!
And with that bubbling confidence, Elwin recalled the spellsong upon the ship his father once commanded, and broke the sequence of chants in a lone voice.
With his arm out and Quan alive, he sang as melodiously as he could:
“AIOLOS, VIS ARTAIA, ASTRAE NUM SUILMARIA,
MELOS, SUR AEFENIAD! IANNAE INCANTAERA!”
And absolutely nothing happened.
But Professor Irina heard it clearly, and she held up her hand to halt the Fradihta, puzzlement upon her face.
“Who sings the Song of the Four Winds when they’ve not even mastered the Wisps?”
Hundred pairs of eyes fell upon Elwin’s figure.
Uh-oh, he thought.
Professor Irina glided over to Elwin.
“Mr. Elwin, do allow me to the sonir you’ve just sung.”
“Professor Irina, I –”
“Worry not. I am here to enlighten, not to punish.”
“Um,” with a shaky voice, he repeated his father’s spellsong, quieter this time:
“AIOLOS, VIS ARTAIA, ASTRAE NUM SUILMARIA,
MELOS, SUR AEFENIAD! IANNAE INCANTAERA!”
“Do you know the meaning of the sona within?”
Elwin was struck with a realization that he knew not. He only remembered the lines because they sounded euphonious to him.
“No, ma’am, I’m afraid not. I apologize for –”
“Aiolos, he who springs from ARTAIA, whose eyes are the stars upon twilight,
Sing us your tune toward eventide! To the west we incant!”
The Master of Air sang, her voice brimming with the melody of its lyric.
“That is the meaning behind the sonir you sang. The reason why it did not produce an effect is because you did not know their words, nor is the Sun descending to the west in what we call eventide. Instead,” she said, taking a breath,
“AIOLOS, VIS ARTAIA, ASTRAE NUM SUILMARIA,
MELOS, SUR SAMATIRAE, SOLARUM INCANTAERA!”
And in an instant, the air around the Fradihta had gathered at Elwin and Professor Irina’s feet; before he could react, he was launched a hundred feet into the sky with the Master of the Air in tow, through the branches, the leaves, and twigs so high that he almost saw the roof of the canopy, and he hollered in fright for there was nothing he could grab; before he knew it, he was in freefall, freefall back to that great theatron, whereupon Professor Irina weaved the strands of air to slow his descent. She floated down right after he did, off a series of invisible steps.
Elwin clutched his head and brushed his face, shocked to the bone, before embarrassment turned him red.
Lucian clicked his tongue from a distance.
“Aiolos, he who springs from ARTAIA, whose eyes are the stars upon twilight,
Sing us your tune to the zenith of noon! To the Sun we incant!” she sang again, this time the meaning of her sonir.
“As you see, certain chants or phrases can be swapped in a sonir to produce the effect we desire,” explained Professor Irina to the class. “This is something you shall eventually learn to do. But before that –”
She turned to Elwin.
“This is an opportune moment for learning. Where did you learn that sonir?”
Elwin stood up, lowering his head. “I learnt it from –” he was about to say ‘from my father’, but feeling Lucian’s gaze and those of others upon his back ready for further proof of his father’s connections, he paused and answered again.
“From a book back at Ascension, professor.”
“I see,” replied the Master of Air, her expression unconvinced, knowing full well the Song of the Four Winds did not contain a sonir in the form he had sung, so its chants must have been re-combined and arranged by someone else.
“Mr. Elwin,” Professor Irina said, dusting off chips of wood from the folds of his robe, “I am delighted to witness an Arten with a keen interest in Ayumastra, and those who’ve gleaned it before they came here. But I must also caution you that singing a sonir without complete knowledge to its meaning can produce unexpected effects. It is fortunate that you possessed no insight to the sonir you sung today.”
“Partial knowledge of chants in your sonir may have proven dangerous, because it would’ve had unleashed a particular effect without regard for how others would fit, such as throwing you off the railings or blasting others away. Let this serve as a lesson in patience, so you may dedicate yourself to the foundations first.”
“Yes, professor,” said Elwin, drooping his head.
From away, Lucian chuckled.
Elwin’s a problem that solves itself.
* * *
“Man, Elwin, what was that?” exclaimed Isaac, trying to cheer him up. “That was really cool! What was the language you sang?”
“Really?” he smiled sheepishly, trying not to go red again.
“How come you know something so advanced already, even though your Maht’s Water?” quizzed Katherine, curious. “Are you sure you read it from a book?”
“There must’ve been explanations in the book, right?” asked Mirai.
“Alright, alright,” Elwin answered, relenting. “I picked it up from my father. He used to sing it upon our ship, when we went out on the sea to hunt.”
“Oh, from your father?” Isaac asked, slapping his knee. “No wonder. If only you knew the meaning, you would’ve been able to do some really awesome stuff back there.”
“Didn’t Professor Irina say that it was all or nothing? That partial knowledge of sonir, well, spellsongs, are dangerous?” quipped Katherine, massaging her Quan-laden arm.
“It’s my mistake,” said Elwin. “I got too carried away during the exercise and tried to do something that was beyond me right now.”
“Hey, but if you didn’t, we wouldn’t have known not to,” said Katherine.
“Well, thanks, I guess?”
“You were quite good with the other sona, though! With the Wisps at least. I struggled a little,” said Mirai, trying to cheer him up with Isaac.
“Um, ah, yeah. I’ll practice harder. I won’t let it get to me,” he said, all of them stepping into Professor William’s class next.